


In the Late Spring

by Solstarin



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 19:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16646462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solstarin/pseuds/Solstarin
Summary: In the late spring, he knew beauty.





	In the Late Spring

**Author's Note:**

> please excuse my poor attempt at poetry lol <3

In the late Spring, he knew beauty. Warmth spread across his realm and his life as the buds of tulips and love sprouted from every patch of earth and skin he knew. He had never seen such a stunning flower, nor smelt anything like its perfume, that intoxicated him so. Butterflies fluttered between tall, green stalks and his ribs, flooding the snow-melt into his veins, allowing thick, strong roots to take hold in his heart. They tightened with every look to her, every bright smile sent to him like a beam from the sun.

Summer burned in his chest, bright and hot and passionate. It beaded sweat upon his brow, left him breathless, languidly draped over sticky skin. Velvet moss grew thick in the shade, soft as her skin beneath his fingertips. Summer sowed the seeds of the next season, promising, leaving him in frazzled anticipation.

Autumn bore him a harvest, a little sprout of pale wheat that joined in laughter to the chorus chirping of forest birds. He would grow tall and strong, a thick Mallorn like his father, but bore the rosy, delicate face of his mother. The spirit of young, curious life burned bright in his eyes, inherited also from the squirrely haste of Spring. Spring brought him up, whispered to him in the babbling songs of the brook, filled him with her own beauty.

But Winter always followed. Winter, in its injustice, shook lush branches bare and withered even the strongest flowers. It came suddenly, shattering the harvest season with a frost that settled in his bones. The nights lasted years, the darkness blanketing his eyes so he could not see. He lashed out like a wild, starved beast at any whisper of her name on the wind. Spring was far away, now, held just beyond his reach by Winter’s unrelenting fingers.

Last fall’s fruits continued to ripen, threatening to rot, but he wanted little to do with the seasons, anymore. Now, even as grass sprung up in the forest, the thaw had yet to reach him. He was unsure if anything would be able to uncurl the dead roots that caged his heart.

Once, in the late spring, he had known beauty.


End file.
